


venir et rester

by reignstarks



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: possible appearance by duncan keith, possible appearance by tyler seguin, restaurant AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:29:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reignstarks/pseuds/reignstarks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan Toews is the owner of Ligne Bleue, the newest French-Canadian five star restaurant to hit Michigan Ave.  His day consists of keeping waiters in line and trying not to get injured by his chef, Patrick Sharp. What happens when a certain someone comes in and is determined to make Toews's job so much harder that it should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	venir et rester

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first shot at writing hockey rpf. A HUGE shoutout to hawksjolras aka jenna for taking the time and looking this over. And shoutouts to few others on tumblr for helping me come up with stuff and things. (this work is abandoned.)

“Can I take your order, sir?” Andrew Shaw asks. The man’s seated at a table far from the crowd of the restaurant (and Andrew’s assigned area), but a customer’s a customer.

"Yeah, I’ll have a…cheeseburger—medium rare, everything on it—fries, and a Coke." The man says, looking up into Andrew as he hands over the menu. Andrew just stares.

"I’m sorry sir, can you run that by me again?" Andrew tries. He’s pretty sure he knows exactly what the guy said, but he’s still trying to figure out if he’s serious or not. It’s been a long lunch hour.

"Sure. I’ll have a cheeseburger with everything, fries, and a Coke," the man repeats with a blinding smile. Yep. Andrew heard that correctly. He jots it down on the notepad with a worried look. Sharpy’s not going to like this. Hell, Jonny’s probably going to kill the guy. Then kill Shawzy for taking the order. Did the guy even read the menu? Did he see the specials sign that Bollig and him spent ages on decorating? Didn’t he see the fancy writing?

Does he know where he is?

"Let me go check with the chef, sir. Be right back." Shawzy doesn’t even wait for the man’s response as he heads towards the kitchen where hell awaits.

Bollig almost runs into him with the dish tub. “Hey man, everything alright?”

"Not really. Dude, some guy just ordered a fucking cheeseburger. I think he’s out of his mind."

"What? Which guy?"

"In the corner, by the windows. With the gray suit jacket and ridiculous hair-thing going on."

"No way. Dude looks like he’s got bank."

"And nothing up there! Jonny and Sharpy are going to flip shit, and Sharpy’s already pissed today."

" I gotta finish up front. Good luck with trying to get out of this alive." Bollig heads off, and Andrew envies his ability to walk away.

"Ugh. Thanks."

Jonny’s wiping down glasses at the bar; Andrew tries to walk past him and, but… “Shawzy, what’s wrong?”…well shit.

"Umm, nothing. Nothing’s wrong."

"Are you sure?" Andrew is a bad liar, and Jonny has his dead shark thing going on. There’s no way to avoid this.

" There’s a customer out on the floor that ordered a…cheeseburger."

"Ha. Very funny."

"No, I’m serious. He’s over in the corner by the windows. Gray suit, bad hair?”

Jonny looks over and stops cleaning. “What.” He puts the glass down and straightens his sweater. “Let’s go see what this is about.”

"I’m not kidding man, its what he ordered,” Shawzy tells him as they weave through the tables. The man’s drinking a glass of water and looking pensive.

"Hello sir, my name’s Jonathan Toews. I’m the manager. My waiter tells me you ordered a…cheeseburger and fries?” It physically hurts Jonny to say it. At first, he’d thought Shawzy was just messing around after a long lunch hour, the kid likes to entertain himself. Now that he knows he’s not, he’s thinking about politely asking the guy to leave Jonny’s five star restaurant and head down the street to the nearest burger joint. No one orders an American delicacy in his restaurant. That is just unacceptable.

Jonny sees the man smile a smile that covers most of his face and Jonny wants to wipe it right off. He then looks up to his eyes and oh, his eyes. He doesn’t think he’s seen eyes that blue before, so clear and bright. Jonny can’t look away.

He reminds himself of the problem at hand and refocuses his mindset on either getting the customer to choose a meal on the menu or ask him to leave. He’d really not want to do the latter.

“I regret to inform you that we do not have that item on our menu. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, may I suggest something else?” Jonny asks with as much patience as he could muster. It’s been a long morning.

“Are you on the menu, Jonny?” the guy smirks. “Wouldn’t mind having you.”

Jonny freezes and then tenses up. There’s a couple things that he knows at this moment: he knows that he has the power to lean down towards the man and politely ask this man to leave his establishment, and he knows that Brandon could even help escort him out if this man becomes a bigger problem.

He also knows that he’s wearing the navy blue sweater that his mother sent him for Christmas a couple years ago, and even Sharpy’s said he looks handsome in it.

What he doesn’t know is why the man is sitting here all alone on a Tuesday afternoon, wasting his time with ridiculous requests instead of bothering someone else.

Jonny really needs to say something or else things are going to get awkward. Jonny does not deal well with awkward. He’s about to come up with something clever to say (no, really) when Andrew starts laughing. He’d almost forgoten Shaw was standing there.

“Him? He’s too salty, I would not recommend it.” Andrew says between bouts of laughter.

“Don’t you have customers to wait on, Shaw?” Jonny asks pointedly.

“Aye aye Captain.” Shaw leaves the table to continue his job while Jonny halts his to deal with this man’s childish manner.  
It looks like the guy is getting a kick out of the teasing—he still has that annoying smile on his face—and Jonny’s itching to get on with his day so he can set up for tomorrow’s luncheon for the Blackhawks Organization.

“You do know that this is a French-Canadian restaurant right? Did you look over the menu?”

“Yeah, I did. But I couldn’t read it. “

“There are English translations right underneath the items.”

“I didn’t feel like reading them,” he shrugs. Jonny’s frowning, and it’s taking everything he has not to just tell the guy off. If it wasn’t for his regulars a couple tables down, he probably would.

“That sweater brings out the color of your eyes. It looks nice on you.” the man says, hand under his chin, looking up at Jonny. Jonny can’t help but get distracted by those eyes again. He really needs to stop staring. “And what kind of restaurant doesn’t have burgers on the menu? That’s a crime.”

“My kind of restaurant, which is what you are in right now,” Jonny says, trying to keep his temper. “Now, can I get you something else, or am I going to have to ask you to leave?”

The other man is silent. He drinks from his water that’s almost gone. Jonny thinks the guy is just going to leave and relief settles in, but—

“No.”

It’s just not Jonny’s day.

“No, what?” Jonny asks.

“No, I’m not going to change my order and no, I’m not going to leave.”

Fuck this guy.

Jonny forces a smile (he’s aware he probably looks like a serial killer) and says through gritted teeth, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Jonny catches Shawzy’s eye and watches the kid wince. He’s pissed, and he’s not looking forward to dealing with Sharpy, who’s still vaguely murderous from an earlier encounter with some remarkably indecisive old ladies.

Jonny walks into the kitchen with Sharpy finishing up a sautéed salmon. “Sharp.”

“Yes, Captain?”

“I need a…”

“You need a what? Spit it out Toes.”

“I need a cheeseburger, medium rare with everything on it, and a side of fries.” Jonny says it with as civil a face as he can manage.

Sharpy laughs. “Is this for the kids? Because Bollig just finished a risotto and fish. And I’m pretty sure Shawzy ate a while ago, too.”

“No. It’s not. It’s for a customer,” he forces.

Sharpy stops still. “What the fuck? You didn’t tell me we added burgers to the menu.”

“We didn’t. He’s insisting,” Jonny says shortly.

“Who does this guy think he is? I can’t really whip up a burger on some asshole’s request. We don’t really have ingredients on hand.”

“I don’t know what else to do. I’ve tried everything.” Maybe Jonny was hesitant to kick him out, but it wasn’t his fault! It was the eyes! Sharpy’s not reaching for any knives, though, so Jonny thinks he’s okay.

“Fuck, let me see what I got in the freezer,” he sighs. “This asshole better be rich or something because this isn’t fucking McDonald’s.”

“Thanks, Sharpy.”

“Mmhmm. You still coming to the ‘Hawks opening night with us?”

“I have some stuff I want to take care of at home. You guys go ahead.”

“But they’re playing the Jets! You love the Jets!”

“I like the Jets. Anyway, I can just catch it at home.”

“But its opening night, Jonathan. No ifs, ands, or buts. You are coming. I’ll make sure Seabs keeps you from running out on us.”

He’s gonna have to pay more attention to the host. Brent Seabrook is a sneaky fucker.

“Okay, fine. I’ll go. For just a little while,” Jonny says, as though he’d possibly leave a game partway through.

“That’s the spirit.” Sharpy closes the freezer door. “Well, your customer’s in luck. There’s enough ground beef for a burger. Although someone’s going to have to run out and get buns. I’m out. And fries. I’m not cutting potatoes for this one.”

“I’ll ask Seabs to go out and grab them. Anything else?”

“Nope. Now, out of my kitchen. I have knives and I’m not afraid to use them.”

“Leaving. Thanks again, Sharp.”

Jonny leaves before Sharpy can actually throw or cut anything. He needs to hide those before someone gets hurt.

 

(based on this [photo](http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/90/17/cb/9017cb40a457cc3a1e50d3597fc5b234.jpg))

**Author's Note:**

> a translation for you: venir et rester = come in and stay.  
> ligne bleue = blue line. heh.


End file.
